It’s Christmas time once again,
the end of a merry go round of pain.
Sparkling lights and festive cheer,
four mince pies and plenty of beer.
Families reunited for dinner,
paper hats, Jesus Christ - winner winner.
The shops are packed,
the rush is on, regret you slacked.
Madness in every aisle,
adding more to the glut, wide smiles.
No one wants to be on their own,
go abroad instead, you could have flown,
to the sun-soaked Caribbean,
never having to deal with Uncle Ian.
Dodge the racist remarks,
dogs tearing around, incessant barks.
No more false grinning,
wrapping paper binning,
logs on the fire, fizzing and crackling,
getting older, your hair thinning.
A happy time for all,
the best of times you recall,
remembering your childhood with glee,
but dinner is over and now set free.
The quiet of your own mind,
what is this season, you feel blind.
So much strife and worry still exists,
the world has needs, not on Santa’s list.